I mopped my brow as the stiff summer breeze did little to alleviate the sweltering heat on the porch of Little Woodrow’s 6th St. location. I bit my lower lip and placed my ticket stub in bucket two. Standing next to a bucket in the middle of a small area with a checkered circle, BDOE started the count, “One…two…THREE!” His assistant lifted the bucket and six turtles scrambled to the checkered outer ring.
I clenched my ticket in anticipation of victory, but it was not to be. I bet on #2, a turtle named Soup. Soup decided it wasn’t worth his while to even move in any direction. The folks who placed their tickets in #3’s bucket were stoked, since that little guy beat feet to the checkered finish line. I hung my head, resolved to win the next race. [Read more…]